On a dark hill, a heavy heart unfolds,
The weight of an anchor tied to a ship,
Under the gray skies, a mirror of unfolding burdens,
Objects are closer than they appear,
The clouds, a gray shape of sorrow,
Thunder looming in its corner of scorn.

Amidst the atmosphere of chaos,
Afar off, soaring white wings, a beacon of hope so bright,
Flapping its solace and promise of peace,
A light at the end of my tunnel,
Oh bird, give me some wings to fly,
To fly away on white wings, unburdened,
For I too can take flight.

©Blackpoet

Day 31/100